


The Apocalypse Diaries

by KennaM



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies - Jane Austen & Seth Grahame-Smith
Genre: Apocalypse, Crack, Crossover, Gen, Guns, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennaM/pseuds/KennaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is it a zombified version of the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, or a modernized version of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? How about both?!</p><p>"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of the zombie virus must be in want of a female companion."</p><p>(Back from hiatus, to be updated on a semi-regular basis.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of the zombie virus must be in want of a female companion. This, at least, is what Lizzie's mother tells her, in a very serious tone, after calling her down to sit in their front room one afternoon. It is the reason why times are especially tough for young woman, Mrs Bennet says, wagging a finger. The undead are more likely to attack women than men. This is why you need to find yourself a husband to protect you.

Lizzie rolls her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," Lizzie's mother says sternly, "this is serious. This is a matter of life or death."

"I know how to protect myself," Lizzie says for the umpteenth time, "I don't need a man to protect me - this is the 21st century, mother."

This only launches another mildly sexist tirade from Mrs. Bennet about how much more effective a man's muscles are against the sinews of a zombie's neck, how their shoulders are built to withstand the kick of shotguns. "You make sure you get one with shoulders now," Mrs. Bennet emphasis, "and it's better if they're a bit taller than you - longer reach."

Mr. Bennet chooses that time to come into the room, distracting Lizzie's mother long enough for Lizzie to make her escape. She heads up to the second floor, where her bedroom is, and meets her sister Jane on the landing, cleaning Lizzie's shotgun.

"Um," Lizzie says, not sure if Jane picked up the wrong weapon or not. Jane looks up and smiles brightly as usual.

"Oh hey Lizzie! Dad were cleaning ours and I thought I could-" her expression suddenly drops and, worriedly, she adds "I hope that's not a problem, you weren't planning on going out right now, were you? I just started, I could-"

"No no," Lizzie says cutting her sister off, "It's fine. That's perfect. Thank you." Jane smiles again.

"Mom getting on your case this morning?" She asks knowingly.

"She gave me the 'truth universally acknowledged' speech." Lizzie remembers overhearing part of this speech given to Jane just a few days earlier. Mrs. Bennet had obviously been working on perfecting it in that time.

"Well, she's only trying to look out for us," Jane replies. She absently replaces the swab on the rod she's using, and Lizzie sighs, not sure if she wants to admire her older sister's ability to be positive or find it foolish. "I should be done with this in ten minutes, I can have your shotgun back to you then."

"Thanks," Lizzie says, "I'll be in my room."

Her room is an organized mess of books and unfinished housework, clothes sitting in baskets and half empty lanterns hanging from makeshift hooks on the wall, boxes of food the family has saved up which apparently needs to be stored approximately everywhere. There are jugs of water under the window, and in front of them there is a tripod set up with a camera facing towards the bedroom door and, more importantly, the stool she has set up at the end of the bed.

Silently, Lizzie goes to a bookshelf and opens a package with an SD card inside - one of fifteen, each card 16gb - and inserts it into the camera. It's not her ideal camera, like the one she had been saving up for back when she was in school, but it records, albeit in low quality, and that's all she needs. She turns it on carefully, quickly pressing the record button, and sits down to face it.

Clearing her throat and fixing a lock of hair, Lizzie says, clearly and deliberately, "Today's date is April 9th, 2012. My name is Lizzie Bennet, and these are my video diaries."


	2. Episode 2

Mid-sentence, Lizzie's door bangs open behind her and she hears a familiar voice practically shout, across four feet of space, "Lizzie Lizzie! Did you hear?! The mansion up at Neth - oh... ?"

Lizzie turns in her chair to see her younger sister Lydia standing in the doorway, staring at the camera on the tripod "Yes?" Lizzie says, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Lydia shifts her weight and smiles instinctively at the camera lens, taking a lock of hair to curl in her hand. "Um, what are you doing, Lizzie?"

Lizzie reaches up and turns the camera off, not wanting to waste what little power she can use to film her sister's excited outbursts. Her sister pouts when the camera powers down. "Filming a video diary," she answers.

"Lame," Lydia says, and all but flops down on her sisters bed, reaching down to hold her .35 handgun in place so the holster doesn't shift as she lies back. Lizzie doesn't know why her parents let Lydia carry it around with her all over the house. Of the five of them, she's the one most likely to accidentally leave the safety off and shoot her foot, or accidentally kill that scrawny cat that she insists on keeping. On the other hand, she's also the one most likely to wander out of the house and forget to grab a weapon, so maybe this is safer overall. "Why are you doing video diaries?" Lydia asks.

"Charlotte's idea. She says the virus hasn't been spreading so much lately, that the tide seems to be turning, and when everything gets back to normal, it'll be... informative, to look back and see what life used to be like."

"Boring," Lydia declares, giving the ceiling a death stare. "Who does diaries these days? Boring. There are so many more interesting things you could be filming. Like me." Lydia turns her head and practices her flirtiest smile.

"What did you come in here to tell me?"

"Oh yes!" Lydia sits up quickly, eyes wide with excitement, "Did you hear?!"

"Uh, no."

"You know Netherfeild, that mansion on the edge of town?"

"The one that's been overrun all year? What about it?"

"It's been cleared out," Lydia says.

"What?" Lizzie gapes, half impressed and half skeptical. The mansion, a perfect fort had anyone been living in it, had somehow attracted so much attention from the infected that no one had been able to get near it, even when some of the families grouped up to go on raids. The idea that someone had managed not only to get past the zombies on the outside but retake it as a safe zone sounded impossible

"It's true," says Lydia, "Mom just got back from meeting the supply train and apparently everyone in town was talking about it. Some guys showed up and decided they wanted the mansion for their hideout and they just cleared it out."

"Wait," Lizzie says, the wheels in her head turning, "did you say-"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh no."

"Mom is freaking out. She wants dad to head over there tomorrow morning when it clears up, to welcome them to the town and invite them over. To introduce us."

"Mom wants to throw us at some strangers who just rolled into town without warning."

"They cleared out an entire mansion," Lydia playfully punches her sister on the shoulder. "They've got to be super hot, right?"


	3. Episodes 3-4

Lizzie returns to the house carrying the day's laundry and immediately notices her mother's tearstained face and quietly controlled sobbin; she isn't sure whether to be worried for the woman or suspicious of her. She sets the basket down on the table, her shotgun neatly balanced on top, and carefully bolts the front door again before making her way to her mother's side and asking, "hey, what's the matter?"

Mrs. Bennet takes a long, shaky breath before managing to say, "it's your father." She doesn't say any more, instead letting out a sob and burying her face in a dirty apron she holds tight in her hands.

For a long, terrible moment, Lizzie fears the worst. She looks up, not seeing her father in the kitchen, and doesn't see him in the hallway either, or hear his humming from upstairs. Instead she notices Lydia, perched on the second story banister, without a care in the word, dangling a string in front of her cat's nose. Lydia glances down at her sister, and says "he hasn't been out to see the new neighbors yet. He's not dead, he's just reading a newspaper somewhere."

At that Mrs. Bennet sobs loudly, and Lizzie groans. "Your father!" Mrs. Bennet says again between sobs, "what kind of father you poor girls have!"

"Please mom," Lizzie says, "you really had me worried there." She retrieves her shotgun from the table to put it back on it's spot on the wall.

"And you should be!" Mrs. Bennet says, lifting her head and attempting to give Lizzie a stern look. It doesn't work as well when there are bits of flour drying on her cheeks and her hair where it's been stuck under a hat. "If your father doesn't go out and introduce our family to our new neighbors soon, they'll find some other pretty girls in town to invite over to that big beautiful house and you'll be stuck in this place which is falling apart, until the infected finally break in and you die with us!" Her speech becomes more unintelligible as emotion retakes her.

"We could just go introduce ourselves," Lizzie says as she straightens the shotgun on the wall. "And this house is perfectly safe, we're not going to die. You've never even been to Netherfield, you don't know how safe it is compared to here. For all we know, they've still got zombies in their basement or something."

"I don't think they have any of those," Lydia says, still absentmindedly playing with the cat, "but they do have a chick with them already." Mrs. Bennet's sobs increase.

"Another woman! Where my poor girls could be!"

"Wait a minute," Lizzie starts to say, "What are you talking about? There's already a girl at Netherfield? How do you know who's at Netherfield or not?"

Lydia's 'innocent face' is so recognizable she doesn't convince Lizzie one bit. Lizzie points a finger, feeling a bit like her mother, and narrows her eyes dangerously, and her little sister finally gives up. "OK, gosh, I went over there," she says.

"When?"

"This morning! I was bored and the streets were cleared!"

"That's dangerous, Lydia!"

"What did you see?" Mrs. Bennet asks.

"Not much," Lydia says loudly over her sister's protest, "it's not like they were just lounging around outside. That would be weird.

"But hanging around outside someone else's isn't?" Lizzie asks underhandedly.

"But I saw three of them. Didn't get a good look at their faces. Two guys - very nice," she adds with a grin, "and then some other chick, hanging on one of their elbows. She obviously had dibs or something."

Mrs. Bennet wails and Lizzie feels like strangling something.

"You shouldn't have gone out like that!" She says, more annoyed than worried, "what were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that there were some hot dudes in town I hadn't checked out yet. Now I have checked them out and I want to check them out again. Preferably overnight."

"I can't allow it," Mrs. Bennet says in what Lizzie thinks is a surprising moment of firm parenting. If Lizzie is impressed, however, her mother ruins it by adding, "there will be no more talk of Netherfield or of new neighbors, not since your father is so insistent on us never meeting them! What's the use?! It will only make us mad! Your father intends to drive us to ruin and there's nothing we can do but stay here and wait for our door to give in one night!"

"Mother," Lizzie begins to chide, but she is cut off.

"No! I will not hear of it! I will have no talk of these new neighbors in this house, and you are forbidden to see them either!"

"Well that's a shame," Lizzie's father's voice pipes up from the end of the hallway. He must have been sitting in another room, Lizzie thinks. "I happened to run into one of our new neighbors - a Mr. Bing Lee - while picking up rations the other day. Turns out he only came into town because he's a friend of Ellen's and wanted to be here for the wedding, though we got to talking and he's thinking about staying. But we'll be at the wedding too so it wont be very easy to avoid him at all."

Mrs. Bennet practically screams. Lizzie can't tell if it's rage at her father for keeping that information from them, or pure joy and excitement. It turns out to be the latter.

"Did you hear that?!" She shouts at Lizzie, standing up and dropping the apron. The tremor in her voice is gone and all that remains of the tears are the streaks on her face. "We're going to meet them! There's hope for you yet, my dear Lizzie! Oh, don't you have the most wonderful father?!" She quickly crosses the room to fling her arms around her husband's shoulders and kiss him before he can sit down.

"What's going on?" Jane's head pokes out of her doorway on the second floor.

"Dad met the new neighbors," Lydia explains. "They're going to the wedding this weekend. Tell us all about them," she asks, turning her attention back down to the room below.

"Well, there's Bing Lee, who I told you about."

"I assume he's quite handsome?" Mrs. Bennet asks, turning to wink at Lizzie.

"I guess," is Mr. Bennet's reply, with an eyebrow raised. "He's studying to be a doctor-" Lydia makes an 'ooh' sound from the banister, "- and he seems like quiet a pleasant fellow, able to hold his own in a fight. He also mentioned his friend, a Mr. William Darcy, was in town with him, as well as his sister, Ms. Caroline Lee."

Mrs. Bennet spins around and gives Lizzie a knowing look. "Sister," she says, face exploding with triumph, "his sister!"

"What's so special about his sister?" Jane asks upstairs, out of the loop, and Mr. Bennet shrugs even though she can't see him. 

"Well she's got to be awesome," Lydia matter-of-factly, "if she and her brother regularly clear out mansions just to be on time for a party."


	4. Episodes 5-7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my good friend majyyxx on tumblr; for your birthday, I'm bringing Apocalypse Diaries back!! New updates will continue on a semi-regular basis :3

Lizzie finds Charlotte almost immediately after she enters the high school gymnasium with her family. The entire campus has been spruced up and fortified for the wedding, cleaned up from when it had been used as a shelter during the initial outbreak. The Gibsons had spent a month scrubbing off graffiti and throwing out litter, along with anyone who would help them. Now it looked almost like it had back when Lizzie was attending – except with more guns, of course.

She crosses the room without so much as a goodbye to her parents or sisters. It’s been too long since she and Charlotte last spoke, and she can’t stand listening to her mother talk about the town’s newest, most eligible bachelors any longer.

“Lizzie!” Charlotte calls softly when she sees her friend, and Lizzie goes in for a hug.

“Charlotte! How are you?” she asks. “How’s your family?”

Charlotte Lu’s mother sits at the table nearby, with Charlotte’s younger sister next to her, staring at a book. The three of them live alone and it’s a constant worry that something might happen if they’re not too careful. Charlotte rarely has time to visit Lizzie anymore, with as much time as she spends watching the house.

“Good,” Charlotte says with a fading grin, “we’re good. What about all of you?”

Too late Lizzie notices that her parents have followed her to the Lu’s table. She glances back warily, glad to see that Jane is still close by even if Lydia has run off somewhere. “We’re all doing fine too,” Lizzie says. “Lydia’s still keeping that cat she rescued. And I started on those video diaries, like you suggested.”

“Awesome,” Charlotte says. She’s about to add more but Mrs. Bennet cuts her off.

“There they are!” she says, much louder than Lizzie would like. Her mother’s hand grips tight on her shoulder and she doesn’t bother to hide the wince.

“Who?” Lizzie asks, but she follows her mother’s intense stare and sees who. Lizzie knows practically everyone in town, and the fact that she’s never seen these two men before means she knows exactly who they are. A tall, gorgeous woman trails close behind them.

“You have to introduce us,” Mrs. Bennet says. She changes her death grip from Lizzie’s shoulder to her husband’s arm and practically glares at him. Charlotte gives Lizzie a knowing look.

“I think our girls are capable enough of introducing themselves,” Mr. Bennet says, but his wife stares him down and he finally sighs. “Wait here.”

Mrs. Bennet turns immediately to Jane and begins fussing with her daughter’s hair. “You have to look perfect,” she says, mostly to herself, and Jane blushes modestly.

“Mom,” Lizzie says, but then her mom is turning to her, and straightening up the collar of her cardigan. “Mom,” she repeats, and pulls back.

“Be pleasant,” Mrs. Bennet chides. “Remember, you’re trying to get them to like you. Just start with a dance or two, maybe get him to invite you back to his place-”

“Mom!”

Lizzie can see her dad making his way back across the edge of the dancefloor. The men are right at his shoulders.

And as much as she hates to admit it, they are fairly handsome. Not just muscular – muscles are a given, with zombies on the loose, even Lizzie and her sisters are muscular – but honest to god handsome. Their faces are clean, their white shirts spotless and pressed, their suits perfectly tailored. Even the woman with them is wearing a dress that would have been expensive before the outbreak. They look like they’re a trio of models, and this is the apocalypse for Pete’s sake.

“Mr. Lee,” Mr. Bennet says, with a small nod towards one of the two men, “this is my wife, Mrs. Bennet.” Lizzie’s mom practically blushes, and Lydia sidles up to Lizzie’s side just in time for their dad to add, “and these are my daughters; Jane, Lizzie, and Lydia.”

The man, who must be Bing, is tall and handsome and smiling like he’s the one getting married instead of Mrs. Gibson’s daughter. “Charmed,” he says, and sticks his hand out for Mrs. Bennet to take. It strikes Lizzie as an archaic expression, but also perfectly natural, spoken in his voice.

“This is Mr. Bing Lee,” Mr. Bennet continues. Lizzie almost expects him to describe the man as ‘illustrious’; the word had been thrown around often enough the last week, and seeing his bright countenance now it certainly would fit.

“And this is my sister, Caroline,” Bing says with a half-step back to give her the limelight. Her smile looks almost plastered on but she can see the resemblance in the light they emanate. “And my best friend in the world, William Darcy.”

If Bing Lee is a sweet babbling brook then William Darcy is a cloudy, dark pond. His gaze drops to the floor when all eyes land on him and he doesn’t say a word, and it occurs to Lizzie that she hasn’t seen him smile once during the whole exchange. It doesn’t help that his head it covered, stiff and formal, and that his bowtie is on just a little too straight. He looks utterly displeased to be there.

Mrs. Bennet is ignoring that, shaking Bing’s hand more vigorously when it becomes obvious no other hand will be offered. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she says, grin wide. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Lydia gives the trio an obvious look-over while Jane offers a quiet “Hello” of her own, but Lizzie doesn’t do or say anything. She doesn’t want to feed into her mother’s plans, and if she’s being honest with herself she doesn’t _know_ what to do or say. Besides, they’re whisked off moments later to meet more of the Gibson’s party guests, and Lizzie didn’t come here for them anyways.

She and Charlotte spend most of the party catching up, sitting in the back corner and refusing to dance because Lizzie wants to prove a point. The food is good, two rations per guest, and the live band’s bad attempts at the requested songs only fuels the fun. Her family has disappeared around the gymnasium to do their own things. She doesn’t see them again until her father finds her, to tell her that it’s his turn to take perimeter duty and now Lizzie’s job to keep an eye on Lydia.

Lizzie doesn’t even notice Jane until she stands up to search the room for their baby sister. She excuses herself from Charlotte and moves closer to the dancefloor, ignoring her task for a moment to focus on the fact that Jane is out there, swaying to the music, her arms wrapped around the _illustrious_ Bing Lee’s shoulders.

And her smile is so radiant, Lizzie has to smile as well. She wonders how long this has been going on, how much joyful Jane she’s missed out on already. They’re dancing too closely for this to be a first dance. Lizzie fights an impulse to call and point them out to Charlotte, filing away a reminder to ask Jane all about it later, and forces herself to look away. She still needs to track down Lydia.

She finds Lydia hiding out behind the drinks table later, arms wrapped around the waist of a guy who looks ten years her elder. Lydia disentangles herself when she notices Lizzie making her way over, but fixes her with a stony glare.

“What?” Lydia asks with a huff. The guy shuffles off in a hurry, avoiding Lizzie’s eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” Lizzie says. “Where’s mom? Why aren’t you with her?”

“You’ve been talking to Charlotte all night,” Lydia counters, but she nods to the edge of the dancefloor. Their mother is standing there, holding a handkerchief over her heart like she’s going to faint. “Mom’s watching Jane. It got old quick.”

Lizzie sighs and crosses her arms, trying to ignore how embarrassingly obvious their mother is being. “How long have they been dancing?” she asks instead.

“I dunno,” Lydia says, “last twenty minutes? I lost track of time.” She flashes a wolfish grin and Lizzie’s about to smack her but the music suddenly stops and there’s a commotion in the center of the room. The dancers are leaving the floor and the bride and groom are out alone, but they’re not dancing. Lizzie gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. Mrs. Bennet is at her side before she even realizes it.

“Hurry up!” she says, tugging on Lizzie’s elbow. A small swarm of other young women are moving out onto the cleared dancefloor, and that can only mean one thing.

“Please, mom,” Lizzie says, trying to tug her elbow free. She’s being all but dragged out to the floor, and by the time her mother finally lets go she’s already joined the throng of single girls.

It’s too late to escape but she can try to avoid the battle. Lizzie edges towards the back of the crowd but the other girls are excited, and jostle around her. The bride’s back is turned before she knows it and Lizzie sighs, sidestepping from the worst of it while the bride takes a practice swing.

The bouquet is in the air for only a moment, arc too narrow, flowers spinning too wildly, before the paper wrapping smacks Lizzie right on her forehead. She’d raised her arms uselessly to protect herself and now the bouquet falls into them. From the crowd she hears laughter, and sighs of disappointed, and what is unmistakably Mrs. Bennet’s squeal of delight.

Lizzie can’t believe it. She stares down at the bouquet in disbelief, allowing herself to be ushered to the side while the bachelors are called out onto the dancefloor. She looks up to watch them only because she knows that in a few minutes she’ll be forced to dance with one of them. Lizzie tries not to scowl too noticeably.

Bing Lee is out there, laughing and dragging his friend Darcy out onto the floor. He doesn’t seem to notice that Darcy is frowning, looking dark. He even crosses his arms a the groom pulls the flower out of his buttonhole, preparing to toss. He looks like he wants nothing to do with anyone else there, and Lizzie snorts. He could at least pretend he doesn’t think he’s bether than everyone else.

It’s really just her luck when William Darcy catches the flower. He looks shocked and she feels disappointed, and only a little pleased that in the corner of her vision she can see her mom looks disappointed, too. Then they’re alone on the dancefloor. The crowd cheers and the band – just locals with working instruments, really – begin playing a slow song. Darcy doesn’t meet Lizzie’s eyes but he holds a hand out, and Lizzie takes it, and then they’re dancing.

Badly.

It’s the most awkward dance ever, Lizzie thinks. Darcy’s posture is too stiff, and he’s putting just a little too much distance between them, like he doesn’t want to touch her but doesn’t want her to notice. He still won’t meet her eyes, stares vaguely over her shoulder, and Lizzie realizes they still haven’t said one word to each other. The only thing she can think to ask, though, is, “Do you like it here in town?”

“Not especially,” he says after a brief pause. For a moment he actually glances at her face, then looks away.

Lizzie isn’t sure how to respond to that. ‘ _Not especially_ ’? He couldn’t even force a fake compliment?

She tries again, floundering for a moment before her mind settles on, “Do you enjoy dancing?”

She wants to kick heself as soon as she asks it. There’s literally no response this swaying statue could give her that would satisfy any curiosity. He’d been lurking by the back wall all night, not because he had a friend to catch up with but presumably because he just didn’t like people. Much less dancing with people.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “Not if I can help it.” Looks like this was he one time he really couldn’t help it.

Lizzie has nothing else to say, no other topics of conversation prepared. He’s giving her nothing to work with, and frankly she’s tired of trying to make anything work anyways. The song can’t last much longer, then she can get back to Charlotte – who must be seeing this, must know what Lizzie’s thinking right now.

From the corner of her eye, Lizzie sees that the crowd is starting to look bored too. Her mother’s still watching them, but with such an intense frown. Lizzie almost feels sorry for her.

Darcy pulls away the moment the music changes, and Lizzie is stunned for a millisecond before she realizes the dance is over. He still stands in front of her for a moment though, and she thinks hes going to bow until he finally says, “Thank you for the dance,” and walks off.

Lizzie wonders if she should have thanked him back.

Charlotte’s snickering quietly behind her hands when Lizzie returns to her. Her smile is evident in her bright eyes. “That looked _fun_ ,” Charlotte manages to say between what Lizzie wants to call giggles.

“That was _horrible_ ,” Lizzie says. She drops into her seat with an exaggerated sigh. “Most awkward dance _ever_. My mom probably planned that somehow.”

“She didn’t look any more thrilled than you did,” Charlotte points out. A fact Lizzie is all too aware of, if only because her mother isn’t chasing her down through the crowd now. She isn’t actually sure where her mother is, but under any other circumstance she’d be complaining that Lizzie should have forced her partner to stay for another dance.

“Yeah,” she says. And it serves her right, trying to set her daughters up with every man they met. ‘

Lizzie’s still feeling stiff from the dance though, and a bit tired from sitting in this cramped gymnasium all night “I think I need some fresh air,” she says to Charlotte.

“I’ll bet,” Charlotte says, but she stands up anyways. “They might let us stand on guard duty for a while. To give your dad a break and let him dance with your mom.”

“I’m sure mom would love that,” Lizzie says. She’s about to add another quip about her mother needing the distraction, when she overhears a familiar voice out behind the refreshment table.

“You’re dancing with the only tolerable girl in the room,” the voice says, “so quit wasting your time with me.”

Lizzie instinctively reaches an arm out to Charlotte’s elbow, to slow her down. From the corner of her eyes she can see them: Bing Lee and William Darcy. They’re standing by a table facing the dancefloor, not paying attention to the people around them, and having noticed that Lizzi and Charlotte are passing by only a few yards away. Darcy looks almost angry, and Lizzie can’t hear what Bing is saying but she hears Darcy’s response clear enough.

“Sure, Lizzie’s decent enough-” he kind of shrugs “-but why would I continue to dance with her when no one else does?”

Bing looks forlorn but apparently accepts his loss, and moves back towards he dancefloor. Lizzie, on the other hand, didn’t realize that she’d stopped walking. She can barely bring herself to move on again. “Come on,” she hears Charlotte say, but she doesn’t respond.

She wants to slap him. It would be rude, here at the crowded wedding in front of most of the town, but she feels the urge so strongly she actually takes a halfstep in his direction before Charlotte is tugging on her arm again.

“Lizzie,” Charlotte says. “Outside.”

“How dare he,” Lizzie finally says once they’re walking. Charlotte’s just nodding. “How _dare_ he?”


	5. Episodes 8-9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short and two months late, I am so sorry. I'm going to try to set up a posting schedule so I can finish the whole story by the end of the year.

Lizzie recognizes Charlotte’s voice at the front door the moment Lydia opens it to see who’s knocking. It’s been almost a week since the wedding, the last time she got to see her best friend and Lizzie bolts out of her bed, racing down the stairs.

“Charlotte!” Lizzie brushes Lydia aside to hug her best friend. Lydia’s probably glaring at her back but Lizzie doesn’t care, too wrapped up in Charlotte’s surprise appearance. There’s a rifle strapped to her back, and a revolver at her hip, which means she walked here alone just to see her. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching your family?” Lizzie asks when she pulls back

“Mom promised me they’d survive the day,” Charlotte says, then glances over Lizzie’s shoulder toward Lydia, and smirks. “And apparently someone’s been a ‘sad recluse’ lately, and needs the company.”

Lizzie isn’t sure whether to thank Lydia or chastise her for gossiping, but her sister’s palms are raised defensively when Lizzie turns around. “Don’t look at me,” Lydia says. “When I said you were sad I meant you needed a man.” She turns abruptly to leave, but not before Lizzie can catch the knowing smile.

Charlotte’s arm loops around Lizzie’s elbow before she can think of a retort. “So how are you?” Charlotte asks. She moves towards the staircase, back towards Lizzie’s room. “Has your mom been bugging you since the wedding?”

“Luckily, no,” Lizzie admits. She tries to laugh, but can’t find it in her to be amused. She won’t admit it but her mind has been replaying those words since the wedding. _Decent enough_. Lizzie can’t hold back a bitter tone as she says, “I guess despite how rich he is, even my mom hates him.”

Charlotte nudges her shoulder. “Are you OK?” she asks. Lizzie sighs.

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m fine.” She leads Charlotte up the stairs and her eyes land on the sign hanging off Jane’s bedroom door, and Lizzie breaks out a grin. “Jane’s a different story,” she adds. “Mom will not get off her back about Bing.”

They enter Lizzie’s bedroom together. “They did dance together all night,” Charlotte points out, and pulls her rifle off her back to set it on Lizzie’s desk. The camera tripod is set up in the middle of the room, pointing towards Lizzie’s recording chair, too much of a hassle to move every day. Lizzie sinks into the seat.

“That doesn’t mean she should contemplate an _arranged marriage_ ,” she says. “That’s weird.”

Charlotte unclips her revolver holster but stops to turn and raise an eyebrow at Lizzie. “Overdrama much?”

“I’m not being overdramatic,” Lizzie says, punctuating her statement with a sharp shake of her head. “Our mother picked out the man she wants Jane to marry. And now Jane’s just going along with it!”

“By that logical, blind dates are an arranged marriage,” Charlotte says. She sets the revolver down on the desk and drops to Lizzie’s bed, crossing her legs. “Besides, even if it was an arranged marriage, what’s wrong with that?”

Lizzie throws her hands up. “This is the _apocalypse_ , Charlotte, not the _middle ages_.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “OK,” she says, exasperated, “nevermind. What’s wrong with Bing then?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with him? Other than the fact that your mom likes him.”

Lizzie doesn’t answer right away. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again, and furrows her eyebrows, thinking hard. “Is he too pleasant?” Charlotte asks when the silence has stretched on long enough. “Too nice? Too funny?”

Her reward is a glare. “You’re not helping,” Lizzie says.

“I didn’t come here to help.”

“Oh,” Lizzie says, and gestures toward her camera, the perfect subject change. “Does that mean you don’t want to be on today’s episode?”

“Episode?” Charlotte asks.

“That’s what I’ve been calling them,” Lizzie says, and stands up to power the camera on. It’s at half battery, and will be need to be plugged into the family generator soon, but it can last more than long enough for a single episode with Charlotte. “Pull a chair up,” she says, waving at the extra chair by her desk.

Charlotte drags the chair over and Lizzie arranges the two seats so they’ll both fit on frame, then sets the camera to record. “What’s today’s episode about?” Charlotte asks. “How terrible Bing is? Are we listing all the faults of asshole William Darcy?”

Lizzie tries not to frown too much. “No, no,” she says. “I already covered the wedding, every day this week. I’m sure my potential future viewers are already tired of hearing that by now.” Charlotte chuckles, and squeezes into the seat beside Lizzie. “No,” Lizzie continues, “I was thinking about talking about some childhood memories. Stuff I haven’t covered on here before, like….”

She pauses to think, Charlotte watching her expectantly. The red light on the camera seems to stare at her, so Lizzie decides on the first thing she can remember. “Like that time my mom dressed me up as a spinster for Halloween.”

“ _What_?” Charlotte sputters, choking on laughter. Lizzie grins straight into the camera, surprised her best friend doesn’t remember.

“Yeah,” she says. “2nd grade, before the virus broke, remember? I had to explain to everyone at school what a spinster was. So embarrassing.”

“You were not a spinster,” Charlotte says, still laughing. Lizzie raises an eyebrow.

“Yes I was. How did you forget that? It was traumatic.”

“No,” Charlotte insists. “You were a witch.”

Lizzie blinks. “What?” she says. “No. I was definitely a spinster. It was my traumatic childhood memory, I would remember.”

“Lizzie,” Charlotte says, almost patiently. “We’ve been besties our whole lives. I remember all your Halloween costumes. You had a broom and a warty nose, because you were a witch. How do you not remember that right?”

Lizzie gives Charlotte a pointed look and shakes her head. “No,” she insists, “I was a spinster, and I remember because that was the year I proposed to Ricky Collins so mom would stop saying I’d never find a husband.”

Charlotte grins widely. “I remember that!” she says. “I can’t believe you did that, it was so cute.”

Lizzie makes a disgusted noise. “Yeah,” she says. “Apparently my mom remembered it too. He got engaged last week, did you hear?” Charlotte shakes her head. “My mom almost broke down crying when she found out, as if she actually thought I might still want to marry that guy. He’s turned into kind of a dick.”

Charlotte frowns and glances at the camera, but nods slightly in agreement. Lizzie had forgotten for a moment they were recording, and clears her throat to switch gears. “But anyway,” she says, “the point of all this being that my mom’s still heartbroken I haven’t gotten married. But this is the 21st century! If the zombie outbreak happened two hundred years ago, that’d be a different story, but I’m fine on my own! I can protect myself, travel alone, and kill the undead without any guy’s help!”

Lizzie stares down the camera as she says this, but sees Charlotte smile when she finished her rant. “What?” Lizzie asks.

“But you do still live at home,” Charlotte says. Lizzie frowns.

“It’s the apocalypse,” she says. “Everyone does.”


	6. Episodes 10-11

Lizzie stands outside the Netherfield mansion trying not to fidget too much, Lydia and Jane at either side. Mrs. Bennet had pushed her way to the front of the small group, rung the doorbell, and now waits patiently to barge into the building the moment the door is answered. Lizzie has spent the last hour groaning internally.

They’d been invited to Netherfield for a dinner party of some sort – ‘they’ meaning Lizzie and Jane. Why the invitation was for the two of them, when Jane was the one who’d caught the owner’s attention, Lizzie wasn’t sure, but Jane liked the guy and Lizzie wasn’t about to turn down a free meal.

What she isn’t happy about is the way their mom had invited herself along as well. She’d gotten ahold of the card before Jane could even show it to Lizzie, and declared that they all had to go see the mansion ‘up close and personal’. Mr. Bennet insisted on staying back to watch the house, but Lydia was dragged into the madness as well.

Lizzie can just imagine the look on Bing’s face when he sees the old woman standing there, instead of the young ladies he’s expecting. As if their mom hadn’t embarrassed them enough. Not that Lizzie wants to impress the new neighbors, of course, but she doesn’t want them to think the Bennet family is all fools, either.

When Bing Lee himself answers the door – a surprise in and of itself, as Lizzie had fully expected to see an old-fashion butler – he takes one look at Mrs. Bennet and delivers to widest, warmest smile Lizzie’s ever seen. “Mrs. Bennet!” he says, and he steps out of the mansion and onto the patio beside the small group. “What a pleasant surprise!”

“Yes, Mr. Lee,” Lizzie’s mom begins to say. Bing, to his everlasting credit, interrupts her.

“How thoughtful of you, dropping off your daughters like this!” Lizzie can only see the back of her mom’s head, but she imagines her face looks stunned. “I know it’s late. I myself was worried not all our guests would make it, even with the streets getting safer day by day. Watching over your girls like this, you’re a saint, Mrs. Bennet.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Bennet says. She stutters a bit. “W-well.”

“We’ll have to return the favor sometime,” Bing continues. He glances in through the open doorway, and Lizzie sees people gathered in the house, more than she expected to see. There’s Bing’s sister in the crowd, watching her brother at the door, and – ugh – Darcy, moping by a staircase, and surprisingly Charlotte chatting with someone Lizzie thinks she remembers from high school.

“R-return the favor?” Mrs. Bennet is saying. She sounds like she’s about to have a heart attack.

“If it isn’t too much of an imposition,” Bing says. “My sister and I have been in town for weeks and we haven’t gotten to know many people yet. We’d love to dine at your home next week, if you’ll have us.”

“Of course!” Mrs. Bennet practically squeaks. Lydia nudges Lizzie in the side and mouths, _he’s a natural_. “You must come see our home!”

“Perfect!” Bing says. “How does next Saturday sound?”

“Just lovely!” Lizzie chokes back laughter. Her mom’s voice drips with anxiety. “I must go tell Mr. Bennet about the arrangement right away! If you’ll excuse me!” Mrs. Bennet steps back from the doorway, almost barrels into Jane, and grabs Lydia’s arm. Lydia shoots Lizzie a ‘help me’ look before she’s dragged back down the pathway and towards the street.

Lizzie turns back to see Bing gesturing towards the open doorway, and says, “That was _awesome_.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jane mutters beside her. She shuffles in through the doorway behind Lizzie, and Bing closes the door behind them.

“Don’t worry,” Bing says. He smiles softly as he speaks to Jane and there’s a new edge of kindness in his voice. Lizzie has to keep herself from grinning. “I was hoping I’d get a chance to spend an evening with your family. Everything worked out perfectly.”

He ushers the two of them into the main living room, practically ignoring Lizzie in his attempts to show the house off to Jane. Lizzie follows silently, watching this play out. Jane smiles pleasantly, making polite conversation, but Lizzie hasn’t seen her this happy in so long.  She looks up at Bing Lee with renewed respect. Charlotte might be right, Lizzie thinks to herself. Maybe she had misjudged him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one - I think the chapters might end up around 1k each from now on, with more frequently (weekly?) updates.


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